


Close Your Eyes and Count to Ten

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Fake Marriage, GFY, Happy Ending, M/M, Qui-Gon lives au, emotional h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: His smiles sting and his touches hurt.
Because, Force, Obi-Wan want so desperately for them to be real; even as he knows they never will be.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sanerontheinside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanerontheinside/gifts).



> This is 100% Sanerontheinside's fault. Thank her ^^
> 
> (Originally posted in two parts on tumblr)

Another dignitary’s wife is gushing. Obi-Wan pastes on his most charming smile and rest his head against Qui-Gon’s shoulder, allowing the older man to handle the majority of the conversation. It’s been a long night, and while he knows he could continue this for much longer if need be, internally, Obi-Wan is rapidly reaching his limit.  
  
Qui-Gon’s arm is around his waist, broad hand settled comfortably on his hip, and he’s so warm it’s like flame.  
  
“Yes, we’re from Corellia,” Qui-Gon lies smoothly. “I was born there, and Ben moved a few years back. That’s when we met.”  
  
Obi-Wan remembers his role and tilts his head, smiling fondly up at Qui-Gon, who smiles back, and there is such warmth and happiness in his eyes that for a moment, Obi-Wan could trick himself into thinking it was genuine.  
  
The woman is speaking again, but Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to focus properly on her words. They’ve been on this planet for three weeks now, and he’s running out of energy to maintain this charade. He had thought he could, really he had, but-  
  
But he hadn’t realized how much it would hurt. He had thought he had a better handle on his emotions than this, and maybe at one point he had, but day after day of casual touches, of Qui-Gon taking his hand in his own, of fond kisses pressed against his cheek and, on one particularly memorable occasion, the deep, warm, proper kiss that Obi-Wan found himself drowning in before he had come back to his senses, he begins to think this was a very bad idea. He does not think he is strong enough to complete this mission without breaking his own heart.  
  
And oh, but it hurts, because he knows that it is just a game. Just a mission. In four days, they will be returning to Coruscant, and once again will be Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. The touches will stop, the kisses will stop. He thinks, hopes, the smiles will remain, but knows that they will be as they were before this mission, without that spark of joy, the spark that murmurs _‘You complete me’_.  
  
Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes closed against the thought, and feels a whisper of concern float over his bond with Qui-Gon, carefully formed for this mission and maintained to allow communication and if need be, to locate. A dumbed down training bond, but offering more privacy. Obi-Wan is glad for it.  
  
_‘Are you alright?’_  
  
Qui-Gon in his head sounds worried. Obi-Wan thinks he must have had too much to drink; his limbs feel heavy and he is suddenly so tired. They had been up late the night before, talking and planning, and then sleep had, once again, evaded him, as he lay stock still in the large bed he had been given to share with Qui-Gon that was somehow still too small to avoid contact.  
  
He wants to close his eyes, to curl into the warmth of Qui-Gon’s side, of Qui-Gon’s mind and voice, and just sleep.  
  
_‘I’m fine. Just a little tired.’_  
  
Qui-Gon is still talking with the woman, when he shifts, peering to look from Obi-Wan to the large, ornate chrono on the far wall of the grand ballroom.  
  
“My apologies, Ma’am. Would you excuse us? I’m afraid neither Ben nor I got much in the way of sleep last night, and I fear with we linger here much longer, I shall have to carry my husband to bed.”  
  
The woman laughs, high and grating to Obi-Wan’s ears, but bids them a good night all the same.  
  
They move unnoticed through the crowds and make their way into the quieter halls leading towards the guest chambers. Qui-Gon’s arm around his waist does not falter, and Obi-Wan allows himself to close his eyes and lean more heavily against his false husband. No one would question it, even if they are seen.  
  
Except, perhaps, Qui-Gon, but he too says nothing, and so Obi-Wan gives in to temptation and pretends, pretends that just for this moment, just for a little while, it’s not all just a game.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan is uncharacteristically quiet on their way back to the rooms they have been given. It’s not his silence that catches Qui-Gon’s attention however; rather, it’s the quiet in his head. Their bond is fully blocked, the solid wall of Obi-Wan’s shield’s at odds with the way he leans into Qui-Gon’s side as they walk together, eyes half closed. He’s radiating exhaustion in a way Qui-Gon has not seen in a while; what he can sense of their bond is fuzzy with it.  
  
Maybe it was the alcohol. The drinks here are incredibly potent, a fact Obi-Wan had apparently forgotten tonight. Qui-Gon huffs a soft laugh. _‘He’ll be feeling that in the morning, I think.’_  
  
But still, he can’t deny that he is worried. Obi-Wan had become quieter as the weeks progressed, seeming to withdraw into himself, and Qui-Gon cannot figure out why. So far, it has not affected their mission, and when Qui-Gon asked, Obi-Wan had waved his concerns away, citing trouble sleeping, but would not elaborate.  
  
Obi-Wan shifts against his shoulder, and Qui-Gon glances down as his partner lefts out a soft sigh. He’s all but asleep at this point, and Qui-Gon smiles gently at way it makes the lines creasing Obi-Wan’s brow soften and vanish. He looks younger when sleeps, and happier.  
  
It’s a sobering realization, and one Qui-Gon is not quite ready to handle.  
  
They are not far from their rooms now, and so rather than rouse Obi-Wan from sleep he no doubt desperately needs, Qui-Gon carefully shifts and picks him up, cradling him gently in his arms. Obi-Wan makes a soft noise, a frown creasing his face, and Qui-Gon risks pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Shh, shh. Sleep, Ben. I’ve got you,” he whispers.  
  
Obi-Wan relaxes again at the soft words, turning to press his face against Qui-Gon’s shoulder. It makes Qui-Gon’s heart stutter and lurch, and he can’t help his smile.  
  
As he walks the remaining length of hallway to their rooms, Qui-Gon ponders the man in his arms. Obi-Wan had agreed to this mission, same as him, and they had both agreed on the ship before landing to let each other know if anything made them uncomfortable. So far, that has not happened, but what if…  
  
Perhaps he has gone too far. He does not think he has, but perhaps to Obi-Wan….but then why would he not say anything? The thought hovers on the edge of Qui-Gon’s mind and refuses to leave. As he reaches their door, Qui-Gon decides to talk to Obi-Wan in the morning. If he has crossed a line somewhere, he needs to know. He loves Obi-Wan, and making him uncomfortable is unacceptable.  
  
Love. Once upon a time, he might have shied away from such thoughts about anyone, but now…  
  
Five years since Obi-Wan’s Knighting, and still Qui-Gon finds he cannot stop noticing the hollow that forms without Obi-Wan at his side. At first, he knows, it was simply a matter of adjustment. Habits formed over twelve years do not simply vanish after a day. But something changed; when, he’s not sure, but something did change. It’s in the way he feels when Obi-Wan smiles at him, in the warmth of Obi-Wan’s skin when they spar together, joy and laughter crackling through the Force around them. It’s in the way Obi-Wan lights up while teaching Anakin, the way his eyes dancing when he teases Qui-Gon over meals or tea.  
  
It’s the slow growing warmth that fills Qui-Gon’s chest whenever Obi-Wan is around.  
  
Qui-Gon does not know if Obi-Wan feels the same, or if there is even a chance, but he refuses to push. No number of years can erase the fact that he was Obi-Wan’s Master, his teacher, and Qui-Gon would rather never speak of these new feelings than put Obi-Wan in a situation where he feels he must consent. No, better to stay quiet and let Obi-Wan come to him if he desires. And if he does not, then, well, that is that.  
  
The door to their rooms opens with a near imperceptible hiss, and Qui-Gon lets out a breath as they are surrounded at last by peace and privacy.  
  
He settles Obi-Wan down in the large bed at the far end of the room and, after a moment of thought, uses the Force to remove the younger man’s boots and belt. Pulling the blankets up around him, Qui-Gon allows himself one final kiss to copper-gold hair, and then turns. He’ll meditate, center himself, and then join Obi-Wan in sleep.  
  
“Don’t go.”  
  
Qui-Gon stops, looking back over his shoulder. He could have sworn…  
  
Obi-Wan is propped up on his elbow, eyes open and unfocused. Not fully awake, then, but still, his gaze is wide and a little panicked.  
  
Qui-Gon moves back to the bed without hesitation. He has seen this before, once or twice, and knows the best thing to do is help Obi-Wan back to proper sleep. No sooner has he sat down, when Obi-Wan gets a hand in the fabric of Qui-Gon’s shirt and holds tight.  
  
“Please don’t go,” he whispers.  
  
_‘He sounds so sad,’_ Qui-Gon thinks, and his heart aches. He reaches out, gently strokes Obi-Wan’s hair.  
  
“I’m here,” he murmurs, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
Obi-Wan shivers, and leans further into the touch, until his head is resting in Qui-Gon’s lap. His eyes close, and his breathing evens out, and for a moment, Qui-Gon thinks he has fallen asleep again.  
  
He almost misses Obi-Wan’s next words, whispered against Qui-Gon’s thigh.  
  
“Hurts.”  
  
Qui-Gon’s concern skyrockets as Obi-Wan tenses and curls closer and in on himself.  
  
“What hurts, Obi?” he whispers, stroking Obi-Wan’s hair and ignoring the tremor running through his hands.  
  
Obi-Wan does not answer right away, until Qui-Gon feels a shiver run along their bond and Obi-Wan’s shields fall, suddenly and without warning.  
  
The wave of emotions crash over Qui-Gon before he realizes what happening, before he can pull away, distance his mind from Obi-Wan’s mind. Desire and love, overwhelming in their intensity wash over and through him, and Qui-Gon can’t breathe, can’t think, can only close his eyes and ride it out, feeling each emotion as if it were his own.  
  
He sees familiar scenes, old memories of missions, training session, quiet moments when he had thought Obi-Wan was meditating. New thoughts and feelings, growing and changing until Qui-Gon is looking down at himself, once again on Naboo, and thoughts that are not his own float through his mind, desperate and scared.  
  
_‘Please, I can’t lose him like this.’_  
  
A rush of _lovehurtscaredPLEASEstay_ chases the memory away, only for it to be replaced by scenes from the past weeks. Every touch, ever smile, every loving word stings, because he wants it so badly to be real, but it’s not, it can’t be, it won’t ever be, and it hurts because he wants so badly―  
  
Abrupt, Qui-Gon is back in his own mind, his own body, reeling from the sudden separation. Obi-Wan is sitting up, fully awake, eyes wide and panicked all over again.  
  
They stare at each other for a long moment, both breathing hard.  
  
“I-I―”  
  
“Obi-Wan―”  
  
“I’m sorry!”  
  
Qui-Gon blinks, startled, and Obi-Wan shoves himself up off the bed and begins to pace, radiating nervous energy.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he won’t meet Qui-Gon’s eyes. “I didn’t…you weren’t meant to see that. I…please, just forget about it. I promise, it won’t interfere with the mission.”  
  
Qui-Gon rises from the bed, closing the space between them in three long strides, and wraps Obi-Wan in his arms.  
  
“Shh, shh,” he murmurs, holding Obi-Wan close, but loose enough that he can pull away, and presses his lips to soft hair. “It’s alright, Obi-Wan, it’s alright.”  
  
“Qui-Gon―”  
  
Qui-Gon shakes his head, closes his eyes, and opens his mind to Obi-Wan, offering it to him, offering him the love he’s carried for over two years, the pride he feels when he looks at the man Obi-Wan has become, the awe that comes from feeling Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force, and the joy he fills Qui-Gon’s life with.  
  
When Obi-Wan pulls away from Qui-Gon’s mind, there are tears in his eyes and on his lashes and cheeks. With gentle fingers, Qui-Gon brushes them away.  
  
“Why are you crying?” he asks softly. He knows the answers, hopes he knows the answer, but he needs to be sure, need to hear it for himself.  
  
Obi-Wan licks his lips, and then smiles up at Qui-Gon, and it is the most beautiful thing Qui-Gon has ever seen.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Qui-Gon smile back, and feels the beginning of tears form in his own eyes.  
  
“May I kiss you, Obi-Wan?” he whispers.  
  
“Please.”  
  
And so Qui-Gon does.


End file.
